Breaking Water
by Rainbow Veins 123
Summary: It doesn't take much to shatter the surface of water. Time is the same, even the smallest stone can create ripples. On that cold night beneath Fairfax, a Blind Seer is shocked to watch a new future awaken. Albion's fate has never been so obscured. R
1. Chapter 1

Wow. Bought damn time I got off my lazy ass and wrote out a story for this site.

Uh. Wait.

I mean, Hello! I hope you enjoy my story! Rate and Review and all of that junk. Your feedback is welcomed! :3

* * *

A gunshot rang through the confines of the study.

For a moment, everything in Sparrow's young mind froze. Her older sister collapsed onto the large seal that they had stood on. The young five year old couldn't move, couldn't breath. Tears spilled out of her eyes, but her face was frozen in shock, her jaw agape. Her heart clenched tightly in her chest, so tight that she couldn't scream.

The tears continued the fall from her eyes, and she looked ever so slowly towards the man who had done this. Her eyes were filled with so much pain. For a moment, it seemed that Lucien almost flinched at such a broken sight.

Rose had been the only thing in the girl's life that Sparrow could lean on. The young child never knew a mother's touch, or a father's kind words, but she knew Rose. Sure, they fought like most sisters did, but in the end, Sparrow knew that without Rose, life would have been much more difficult. No. Difficult was an understatement. Her life would have been completely hopeless without her sister to guild her. He took Rose away. The only person Sparrow was close to.

The girl's face contorted in pain, and her shoulders shook softly, but she didn't scream, nor did she cower when Lucien slowly pointed the gun in her direction. She stood tall, the blood of a hero in her veins. It refused to make her beg. If she died, then she'd die with her head held high. Sparrow didn't understand the twitching of her hands, or how she urged to do something. She was far too young, her blood yet to awaken. Had she been older, who knew what would happen? Her eyes sparked with a mixture of emotions, pain, anguish, fear, and anger.

"I'm sorry, but nothing must stand in my way." He finally spoke. Did it sound like he regretted what he did?

Slowly, Sparrow felt a grimace pull at her young face. Get in his way? How dare he, she thinks bitterly. How dare he kill his sister and then say that. They had done nothing. The gun clicked softly, and Sparrow could have sworn she heard the bullet slide into place. Slowly, she walked back, her back pressed against the window she had admired only minutes ago.

Her head bowed slowly, glancing at her sister's body one last time, tears streamed down her face again. Anger was still apparent on her features, but pain underlined it. She prayed that this was some horrible dream that she'd wake up with Rose sleeping in the bedroll across from her like always.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, he fired. The five-year-old felt her eyes widen, and the sound of glass shattering. Her chest almost exploded from pain, and Sparrow let out a gasp, to shocked to let out any other sound.

The town of Bowerstone hadn't heard a thing.

* * *

He hated Bowerstone.

He absolutely despised it with every ounce of his being.

It lacked…well. It lacked everything a man of his stature needed. Oh, how he missed Bloodstone. His little costal paradise. A city were he was almost flat out worshiped. A frown pulled at the corner of his lips.

"Captain Reaver?"

At his name, the Captain spun on his heels, facing his first mate with an arched eyebrow.

"Find a hooker yet?" Reaver asked, completely serious. His green eyes sparkling with what one would believe to be childish joy. What? He was man, and men had needs. Although it should be noted, that Reaver was far from a noble citizen. Gorgeous, but not noble. Actually, he might just be noble in his own right. Among pirates anyways. Regardless, he did tend to indulge himself in pleasure and so on. He would not deny it; in fact, he was perfectly content with rubbing it in other people's faces.

"No sir, but there's a pub down the block, care to join your crew for a round?"

Reaver sighed dramatically. His shoulders slumping slightly, any possible hopes in his mind dashed. "Must I?"

"Only if you wish." The first mate responded. Reaver paused. What was the man's name again? Darn it. Reaver frowned. He was always horrible with the names of his crewmembers. The pirate captain blamed it on how many times he replaced them. What could he say? He liked shooting his gun far more then dealing with shortcomings and incompetence.

"Robby. Go run along. I will do just splendid on my own."

"My name is John."

"…Did you just correct me?"

Reaver removed his pistol from his holster very slowly, regarding his first mate with a dark expression. He wasn't going except back talk from one of his crewmembers. Oh no.

"N-no sir!" The next moment, the first mate John took off, like a dog with a tail between his legs.

Reaver only paused a moment, watching how easily he had stricken fear. The pirate only gave a sly smirk, running a spare hand through his perfectly combed and positioned brown hair. He returned his infamous gun into its holster at his hip. Ah, how he loved intimidating his men.

The pirate captain slowly returned to his task of looking for some form of entertainment. Honestly, why did they have to come to Bowerstone of all places? The city did have some fine products to trade with in exchange for the supplies and goods Reaver and his men plundered, but that was it.

His beloved ship was stationed outside of Bowerstone harbor, the ship was far too large for the small docks, and Reaver didn't dare risk any damage sailing it under that low bridge. Oh no. That ship was his baby. He anchored it right by the seaside, and his crew used simple lifeboats to get ashore.

Before coming to Bowerstone, they had been sailing quite a lot. Plenty of ships were for the taking, and Reaver couldn't resist the temptation of raiding every ship he set his eyes on. He had been working his men rather hard lately, and decided that Bowerstone would be a pit stop of sorts. That, and Reaver had been becoming stir crazy huddled up in his cabin.

The man continued to walk along the cobblestone streets, sighing as he glanced around. Such a bland city.

Reaver frowned suddenly, hearing something collide into the ground only a few feet in front of him. He removed his gun quickly and then moved forward with confidence. Nothing could move faster then his fingers after all.

What he saw next made him freeze in his tracks, his eyes widening for a moment.

It was…a person maybe? Whatever it was, it was dead or passed out, face pressed against the street, and shards of a colored variety scattered around it.

Carefully, Reaver moved forward towards the figure on the ground, his boots crunching against glass. He didn't dare touch the thing before him, not wanting to stain his gloves with the grim and dirt that clung to it's clothes. He narrowed his eyes, and instead pressed his boot into it's side and pushed it over. He glanced down, and felt his eyes widen a fraction.

A child and a girl no less, a girl hardly into her life, only five or six. A girl that was bleeding from the chest. A bullet wound obviously, and a large cut on her forehead, bruises already forming around the cut, and a puddle of blood seeped down onto the concrete. Reaver was extremely careful not to touch his shoes with the red liquid. Her hair was already dirty, but the blood was slowly spreading into her hair and over her scalp staining her brown hair into an ugly black.

Reaver paused for a moment. He didn't feel any sympathy really, but more curiosity. Why would someone kill a child? To get back at someone maybe? He raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the ground. Slowly, the pirate captain bended his knees and leaned over. He picked up a colorful green shard of glass, moving it between his fingertips. Stain glass. He blinked, puzzled. None of the houses here had such material for windows. The only building that had such windows was…

Ever so slowly, Reaver allowed his green eyes to gaze upward. He gasped suddenly. Castle Fairfax. Right in the top hand window. A large shattered stain glass window. He glanced between the child and the castle several times.

"My, my, my… this makes things rather interesting." Reaver only shook his head. The Captain turned his gaze towards the child again. "How could a child bring upon the wrath of the Fairfax?" He chuckled at this. Wrath? Lucien Fairfax did not seem like the type to have such emotion. Sorrow maybe, with his family dead. Yes, even Reaver had heard of such a tragedy all the way from his costal paradise. Of course, rather the mourning, the Captain had laughed until he almost cried.

He stabbed the child with his boot, watching her face contort in pain. Reaver froze. "Impossible. You could not possibly have survived such a fall. It would have shattered every bone in your body…" He muttered under his breath. He watched her chest rise up and down softly. She was clinging to life with every ounce of strength.

Deep down, he found himself feeling respect towards the child. So many seemed to treat their lives with little care, yet this child appeared to be poor and possibly starved. She probably had nothing left. Death would have been a release, yet she gripped her existence with such a fierce force that Reaver almost tipped his hat, shame that he didn't have one with him.

"Quite the will you have…" He muttered. The Captain glanced down at the child. Maybe he should end her pain? She would die out here alone in the streets either way, he'd grant her a painless death at the very least. He removed his pistol very slowly, and pointed it down at her for a few moments.

"…Rose." She finally spoke, her voice high pitched, but obviously in pain. Reaver haltered for a moment. Her face clenched in pain again, but he could see something else beneath the pain. Determination. Reaver was not one to delve into other's emotions, he was usually far to wrapped up in his own, but he could feel his curiosity come into play. A thought filtered into his mind, and it stayed, firmly planted. Reaver was a selfish man. He would not deny it. Yet this thought seemed very…not selfish? It made him confused as to why such a thought would cross him.

Slowly, he twisted the thought in his mind to his liking. There. It felt selfish now.

He would let her live. Slowly, he pocketed his pistol. "If that fall couldn't kill you, I wonder what else you could survive." He muttered again. She would be useful alive. A pirate to join his crew later on down the road? On the other hand, maybe he could use her as possible blackmail. Lucien Fairfax had obviously tried to kill her. If Bowerstone found out about that, an uprising would be at hand. No Lord could get away with such a despicable act.

Either way, she was better off breathing then not.

Hesitantly, Reaver bended down onto his knees, and brought the broken child into his arms with a gentleness that he did not know he was capable of. Slowly, the Lord of Thieves stood up and walked away, Sparrow hanging limp in his arms. His stomach dropping slightly, surely he wouldn't regret this?

"You owe me kid." He muttered gruffly.

* * *

Pale white eyes watched on from the shadows.

This was not supposed to happen.

Theresa had watched the whole event in awe. Not because the event was amazing, but because it wasn't even supposed to be possible. Time had shattered before her eyes, and the future this woman had seen was now destroyed. Never had this seer seen such a drastic change in a timeline in her whole life. She felt almost honored. This was the work of Fate. They had found the future unsatisfactory, and had twisted and bended time to their liking, until it was something completely different.

For once, the Speer stood clueless. The future was now a dark confusing place. She did not know what would await the small child, or the pirate that had swept her away.

Theresa let one of her hands stroke the fur of the dog next to her. She had almost intervened, but decided against it. Fate was not something to be crossed. The seer sighed, glancing down at the dog. The mutt looks up at her with wide brown eyes.

"Come. You will reunite with your little Sparrow soon enough." With that, the mysterious seer walked into the darkness of the night, the dog trailing behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

Well! I wasn't expecting so much positive feedback! Thanks to the people who reviewed the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this new one.

Rate and Review and all of that other mindless junk.

I'm just sad that this chapter came out so...short. Sorry, but this chapter is needed to move forward. I promise more will happen in the later chapters. ^^;

* * *

Off in the distant sea outside of Bowerstone, the ship, _Reaver_ sits soundly in calm waters. Anchored in place. The night is silent, and as the Captain boards his ship, he finds himself confident. He marches across the deck, the child still in arms, passed out and sleeping soundly. As soundly as someone can sleep with a bullet in the chest.

He went below the deck, his ship silent and empty. All of the crew was off in Bowerstone drinking themselves silly.

Of course, Reaver knew that one man had stayed behind, a man who was too old and world-weary for such foolish activities. The captain opened the door next to him, walking into the small quarters with no hesitation. No need to knock. This was his ship after all.

A man seated behind a desk a quill in hand turned around slowly.

"Hello Captain Reaver. Eh?" The man quickly grew puzzled, his eyes leaving from Reaver's face down towards the child in his arms.

Jib had to be the closest thing to a doctor Reaver had on his ship. A middle-aged man, almost as tall as Reaver himself. With an aging appearance and receding hairline, the man was most certainly getting up in years. Once blonde hair had turned into a pale white, and his brown eyes were now shielded behind a pair of spectacles, his bandit outfit obviously old and worn, but it only added to his experienced and weather appearance. This man was the only man on his ship that Reaver bothered to remember his name. This man was also the only man who could treat the Captain's wounds. Probably because Reaver had developed a grueling trust with the man over time. As much as the Captain was pained to think it, he might actually hesitate if he ever had to shot the doctor. In Reaver's case, that was saying quite a lot.

"What in God's name are you doing with the brat? Don't tell me you shot-"

"No. I have some dignity. I'd never shoot someone this young…without good reason of course." Reaver grinned arrogantly, the limp Sparrow in his arms. With little hesitation, he pushed the child into Jib's arms.

Jib held the child easily as the Captain handed her over. Concern quickly became apparent on his features. The elder doctor looked up at Reaver. "She's far too light." The doctor replied gruffly before setting the bleeding child down on his cot.

"I didn't notice" The pirate captain responded, shrugging his shoulders. Then again, now that he thought about it, she had felt frail and breakable in his arms, he just hadn't noticed. The only thing he had paid attention to was how much she bled. Suddenly, something popped into Reaver's mind, and he stared down at his now stained clothes. He cringed, highly disgusted. "How can a child bleed that much?"

Jib only shook his head. He had been the longest man to stay alive on this ship to date, and as of such, he knew Reaver best, so this man was immune to Reaver's selfish behavior.

"So. Why would you bring this kid here? Don't tell me you felt pity."

Reaver laughed darkly. "Pity? Oh no. I though she could be useful."

"Useful? She is a bloody kid. What's so useful about having a snot nosed brat onboard this ship?"

"Lucien Fairfax tried to kill her." Reaver responded. "She fell all the way from the Castle down to Bowerstone and _lived_. You can't tell me that isn't impressive. It definitely meets my standards for recruitment."

"Fairfax tried to do her off?" Jib removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. "Your joking, right? You sure some run of the mill criminal didn't just dump her body in the streets?"

"I saw the broken window Jib."

Jib only sighed, his incredulous look never leaving his face. "I can't believe it. No way could a kid survive that sort of fall, and Lucien seems too soft to kill anyone, especially a child."

"Believe me or not Jib, I know what I saw. She is still breathing and very much alive. If that fall didn't kill her, then I wonder what would." Reaver glared forward at the man, and then flicked his gaze towards Sparrow.

"Do you honest to Avo have the patience to wait…what? Ten years for this kid to grow into someone useful?" Jib finally replied. To say he was confused by his Captains actions was an understatement. Reaver was very ill moral. Why would he rescue a child? The Reaver Jib knew would have shot the girl dead.

"Jib. I have all the time in the world." Reaver purred. It was true. Thanks to the nut jobs from the shadow court, Reaver never had to worry about aging again. Mind you, he still had to send a sacrifice or two, but it did not matter much, now did it?

Of course, Jib had some idea as to what his Captain meant. He knew that the owner of this ship seemed age-less. Everyone in Bloodstone knew that. How, none of them were for sure. It is not as if Reaver went around preaching the secret to immortality.

"You're probably just going to kill her off just as fast as the rest of your crew."

"I tend to be good with my investments Jib. If I am willing to spare this child even several seconds of my time, I'm sure she will not disappoint."

"She'll just end up a prostitute in Bloodstone."

Reaver coughed into his closed hand at that statement. "If she doesn't prove to be useful, then maybe. If she does not prove to meet my standards for my crew, then I could just use her as black mail to extort money from Lucien himself. Either way, having her alive is better then having a corpse."

"Anyway. I believe we stop the chitchat. Our guest here is bleeding _all_ over your bed, and that cannot be a good thing. I don't want her dead, you know that right?" Reaver waved towards the child, and suddenly Jib jumped from his chair.

"Shit Reaver!" The retired pirate spat out, grasping the closest medical tool from his desk. The doctor had almost forgotten about the small child.

The Hero of Skill only chuckled darkly. "I'll leave you to your work good doctor. I'm in the mood for some much needed beauty sleep."

The door closed behind the Captain, leaving Jib to tend to the young child. Bitterly, Jib muttered under his breath.

"Not like beauty sleep has ever done you any good _Captain."_

* * *

The door to the Captain's Quarters shut silently. Ever so slowly, Reaver leaned against the door and ran his free hand through his brown hair. The man was desperately trying to sort through his thoughts. He was trying to find any logic behind his actions earlier. He had saved a child! When had he ever cared about life besides his own? When had he ever hesitated to shoot a stranger? He hisses under his breath.

Was she useful? Or could he be simply lying to himself? Maybe she lived through luck, and any illusion of potential was his way of denying that he had done something merciful. He cringes at the word merciful as it enters his mind. No, he was not going soft! He rubs his temples, deep in thought.

She had reminded him of himself.

That thought caught him of guard. The Captain glanced up, looking at the wall across from him. He had never spoken with the kid, yet he already felt a connection. He scoffed. What a ridiculous thought. More thoughts swarmed into his head suddenly. Oakvale had not been a wealthy place to live, and Reaver can distinctly recall scrambling through dirty streets as a child. Memories that had once been locked resurfaced, and Reaver found himself emerged into his mind.

The Captain stood there for several minutes, his face expressionless. He had grown up poor, and yet he clung to his pathetic existence with every ounce of strength he had. Much like the child he had just saved. Unconsciously, his mind had formed a connection, and through that connection he had indeed pitied her. His pity had made him act selflessly. Maybe he pictured himself in her shoes? He had always prayed for a door of opportunity to open up in his life. Of course, when it did come, it came with the destruction of his only home. Reaver shivered, and finally let out a sigh. Well, there was nothing he could do about his actions now.

Walking forward, he grasped a bottle of wine, not yet opened. Deming the vintage to his liking, he twisted off the cap and poured himself a glass of the red liquid. Collapsing into his luxurious armchair, he allowed his shoulders to slack, and for his body to melt into the lush material. Only during the night did he feel the impact of his memories. The tortured screams of men and women alike rang through his head. He had watched Oakvale burn, and now, three hundred years later, he would watch it burn again.

The events of this cold night only seemed to make his memories more vivid. He wished that he would forget one day. When centuries had rolled away, and he now stood among a new crew, and a new Bloodstone. He knew that one day, the millions of memories he had would have to be cleared with new ones. Slowly, Oakvale would turn into merely a sensation rather then images. Other memories would take it's place. Hopefully, much better memories then the ones that haunted him.

His old existence still clung to him, and as much as Reaver tried, he still could not rid his mind of his pathetic former self. The Captain scowled, and took a deep drink from his wine glass. Tonight, he would drown out his thoughts, and allow sleep to take him away. Away from the mercy he had shown, and away from the visions of Oakvale.

Surprisingly, the captain drifted to sleep with little difficultly after he had downed the last drop of wine from his glass. As he set his glass down on the desk next to him, he could already feel his eyes grow heavy. By the time he returned his hand to his side, his eyes were firmly shut, and the Pirate Captain fell into a dreamless slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

Well, this chapter was much more entertaining to write then the others. Read on and find out why~

Thanks to everyone who Reviewed Chapter 2, your feedback is great ^^

Anyway, enough of me talking, go on and enjoy the story.

* * *

Morning came sooner then expected.

As the aged bandit glanced up from the surface of his desk, he settles his eyes on the clock mounted on the wall. Jib sighs, running a hand through his remaining hair. He was too old to stay up all night; he needed his sleep more then ever. His eyes glanced over to the frail child sleeping peacefully on his cot. Her once open wounds now stitched and bandaged perfectly. Her chest rose up and down peacefully.

His calloused fingers rubbed into his aching wrists, recalling how long it took to patch her back together. The fall from Fairfax had obviously taken a toll on her small frame. Thankfully, Jib knew that none of the damage sustained would be permanent. The only indication of her brush with death would be the cut on her forehead. That wound might scar, but Jib was very skilled. There would only be a thin pale line on her head. It would be unnoticeable.

The old man leaned back in his wooden chair, looking up at the ceiling above him. The sun had already risen, and Reaver would be up soon. Jib chuckled under his breath. The Captain never slept well unless he had a partner with him. The hung over crew would be in for a very unpleasant surprise. Serves them right, he thinks with a smirk. The Greenhorns should know better by now. Reaver could be quite the slave driver if he was in the right mood.

The aged doctor pauses for a moment, and he distantly hear the sound of footsteps from above the deck. The Captain was up, and on schedule as always. The trail of footsteps grows fainter and fainter, until Jib struggles to catch even the softest sound. Reaver was probably below the deck now.

Then, as if it planned, a loud crashing sound echoes below the deck. It was probably the sound of Reaver breaking an oak door off its hinges. A single gunshot echoes through the lower deck.

The effect was immediate. Jib snickers at the yells and yelps that came from the crew, and he can already hear everyone scrambling to get out of their cots.

"Rise and Shine!" Reaver's voice echoes and it is as sickly sweet as ever.

As the men scramble from their bunks and towards the upper deck, the lower deck grows quiet. Jib stays were he is; being a doctor on this ship meant that he did not have to perform labor of any sort. He was privileged to stay in his quarters or below deck doing anything he pleased until his service was needed.

Soon, the door pops open, and Reaver pokes his head in, a delightful smile on his face as he peers around at Jib, a devious spark in his eyes. The doctor merely shakes his head at the Captain's antics. "So, how's our little guest?" Reaver finally asks, his voice obviously excited, but barely above a whisper.

"Sleeping like babe."

"Brilliant! Alert me when she awakens."

Before Reaver could leave through the doorway, Jib only chuckles and speaks again. "Don't hold your breath Captain. She will be out for a while. She smacked her head pretty hard from her fall."

The Captain pauses for a moment and then turns around, frowning. "Aw. I was hoping for a pleasant chat with our little guest."

Jib frowns in return. "More like interrogation by the sounds of it. I just fixed her up Captain."

"Oh no, nothing like that. I won't even wave my gun around. All I need is some sweets and she'll tell me everything."

"Children aren't all easily bought over." At this, Reaver scoffs dramatically.

"You underestimate me Jib. Haven't I always succeeded at everything I've ever done?" Before Jib could reply with some cynical comment, the door closes behind the elusive Captain. The doctor frowns.

With nothing more to do, the doctor removes an old leather book from his desk and begins reading. It was going to be another uneventful day aboard the _Reaver_; the aged doctor could feel it in his bones.

* * *

Above deck, the pirate crew shuffles and scrambles around, ready to start a new day. Despite the supposed pit stop at Bowerstone, there is still much to be done. Cleaning the decks, transporting goods recently purchased, and attempting to sell any stolen goods to anyone willing to buy, and so forth. Surprisingly, the men do not complain, they are used to a much harder workday. Several crewmembers move around, clutching their sore heads from the fun last night, but not one word is spoken against the Captain.

They know better. Speaking against Reaver usually means a bullet to the head. Normally, someone would have to be crazy to join this crew, since joining is like signing away your life. In fact, if the pay wasn't so great, these men would be long gone by now. Of course, there was always that small handful of men who manage to excel as a pirate under Captain Reaver, those pirates tended to be much more quiet. Others were lucky to last a week.

"Oy! Someone drop the latter! Another group of men are coming back with a new shipment!"

A groan is issued by several men, but they quickly scurry off, only to return moments later with a latter. They latch it to the side of the ship, and loosen it's bolts to allow it to sink towards the small lifeboat floating next to the gigantic ship.

"Uh, I think we're going to need some help down here! We got a huge crate, not a small one like the others." One of the pirate calls up from the ship. He points towards the wooden crate next to him. It was indeed larger then the others.

First Mate John peers over the side of the ship and raises an eyebrow in surprise. "The bloody hell did you two buy?"

"We ordered some rations, but we didn't order this much!" The second pirate calls out, giving the small crate a kick. "This thing is big enough to hold three men!"

First Mate John only shakes his head. It wasn't as if this situation was bad, they did get more then paid for, but it would be a hassle getting it onboard. "Does it have any metal loops so we can use ropes to pull it up?" He calls out. He hopes that it would.

"Yeah! It does!" The First Mate sighs in relief.

"Perfect! Someone get these bastards some ropes!" John yelled out over his shoulder. Being First Mate, his orders were almost like Reaver's. At his order, the same two men who had grabbed a latter quickly ran to the other side of the ship, both returning with ropes. They throw the ropes down towards the lifeboat, and John watches as the ropes are secured around the metal loops on the crate.

Without command, the two men begin to pull back, while the two on the boat attempt to lift the crate. Several swears are issued, and seeing their strain, several other pirates join with the men to assist with the lifting.

John merely watches on, his arms crossed over his chest, unimpressed. Surely, the crate couldn't be THAT heavy.

After what seems like an eternity to the first mate, the crate is finally heaved onto the deck. "Jeez. What the hell is in this bloody thing?" One of the pirates demands. John only rolls his eyes, knowing that this fiasco was wasting time.

"Well, let's open it shall we?" The pirate next to the first mate responds, removing a crowbar from the ledge of the boat. The whole crew pauses to watch the man struggle with the nailed wood. Finally, a sharp crack echoes, and one side of the wooden crate collapses.

Of course, they weren't expecting what had been in inside.

* * *

Reaver pauses for a moment, his quill mere millimeters from his paperwork. He frowns, tilting his head ever so slightly so he could hear better. His frown turns into a scowl as he hears loud voices and the thumping of footsteps, obviously running.

Closing his eyes, the Captain takes a deep breath, and chooses to ignore the noise. Surely, the first mate would be able to handle such behavior. The Captain lifts the wine goblet next to him and takes a quick drink before attempting to return to his work. He has no time to let his temper or impatience get a hold of him.

Sadly, the sound does not die down. In fact, it grows louder with each minute as Reaver slaves over his work. A half hour passes, and Reaver can slowly feel his hands twitch for the warm comfort of his gun, and the slick metal beneath his finger tips. He can hear gunfire ringing in his ears, and he finds himself picturing his crew demise in his mind. It fails to sooth his anger, and finally, with a very rushed signature, the Captain tosses his quill to the ground, removes his gun, and rushes to the door only to kick it open.

Well.

He wasn't expecting THIS.

He feels his hands drop to his sides, his gun now being held limp in his grasp rather then at someone's face. He finds himself caught between incredulous, surprised, confused, and shocked.

His crew was…

Chasing a dog?

"You bloody spawn from hell!"

"Catch the mongrel! Don't let it get away!"

"You stupid mutt! Stand still!"

It was like a scene from one of those humorous plays. One of those plays were everyone is reduced to acting like idiots. As the crew scrambles around, attempting to tackle a mutt. Reaver glances ever so slowly back into his cabin, his gaze landing on his wine. Just how much did he drink?

Shaking his head, he returns his eyes to the ridiculous sight, watching the dog completely dodge every attempt at capture flawlessly, a friendly look on it's face. It probably though this was all a game. The brown mutt jumps away from another pirate's grasp, and dives under his legs, only to jump over the failed tackle from another crewmember.

Reaver runs a hand through his hair, still speechless. The Captain struggles for words, but finds none. How could he possibly respond to this situation? His crew, one of the most feared on the sea, was struggling to catch a dog? Were did the mutt come from anyways?

He glances over at an open crate and grimaces. Oh. They had a stowaway.

At the sound of barking, the Captain switches his gaze back towards the dog. The next moments went by like hours for Reaver as he watched the dog turn his gaze towards him, and promptly run towards him. The Captain pales. "Oh no." he mutters, and before he could reach for his gun, the Captain feels a hundred pounds of fur slam into his gut. He doubles over, and collapses back onto the hardwood. The thunderous fall echoes across the whole ship and the crew freezes.

The dog does not hesitate, and much to Reaver's horror, the dog licks his face. No, this was not some small lick; it was a full-blown lick that ran cross the captain's face, drenching him in slobber and slicking his hair to stand up on end. The Captain pales, and suddenly feels rather sick. Who KNEW were that's dog's mouth had been?

The mongrel jumps off with a satisfied bark, and then takes off again, probably towards the lower deck. Reaver lies against the wood, looking up at the sky, not moving. He can hear the shuffling of footsteps, and the Captain merely closes his eyes and clenches his jaw tightly. Well. This was turning out to be a pleasant day…

"Err…Captain?"

A single gunshot echoes through the ship, and the crew quickly snaps to attention. Reaver stands to his feet, and his previous first mate crumbles to the ground, a single hole through his forehead. The Captain delivers a swift kick to the corpse, his expression seeming perfectly calm about the whole situation. Of course, on the inside, he was feeling rather homicidal. More so then usual. With his sleeve, he wipes away the saliva from his face, his gun clenched tightly in his other hand.

"Well? What are you all doing? Catch the damn dog before he damages something." Reaver finally replies with a raised eyebrow. The effect was immediate, with a chorus of "Yes Captain!" The crew scrambles below deck, the Pirate Captain on their heels.

* * *

Despite the events upstairs, Sparrow sleeps quietly, not even the sound of gunfire wakes her. She is unaware of the chaos outside the wooden walls. She sleeps, completely content.

Jib on the other hand, struggles to barricade the doors. The loud yells and gunfire does not settle with him, nor does the occasional scratching at the doors. The gruff doctor mutters a string of curses as something rams into the door. What the hell? Did a Balverine somehow get on the ship?

The weight rams into the door again, and he can distinctly hear a whine emit from the other side of the door. Jib blinks, confused, but does not move his chair from beneath the doorknob. The next moment, another gunshot echoes, and he hears claws click against the wood paneling. Reaver's voice echoes into Jib's room, along with the sound of other crewmembers. To say Jib was confused was an understatement; this whole crazy event had been going on for a whole hour it seems.

The whole entire crew had been struggling to kill whatever the hell was outside of these doors, and whatever this thing was, it wanted inside this room. The doctor ran a hand through his thin hair, and only flinches when he hears the sound of broken glass.

"NO! Not the wine cellar!" Reaver's voice blares through the walls, and Jib threw a concerned glance towards the child's direction, only to see Sparrow sleeping peacefully.

Ever so slowly, the doctor finally opens the door, to watch in utter confusion as his Captain throws up his hands, seeming to have lost every bit of composure the man usually had.

"Captain, what the bloody hell is going on?" Reaver spins on his heel, his face distorted in outrage, Jib actually had to pinch himself to keep from laughing at the Captain's mangled appearance and stained clothes that smelled like his Captain's favorite vintage. He also took in the ruffled hair, ripped pant leg, and how his face seem slicked with water or another liquid.

"I'll tell you what Jib. A dog got on this ship. A dog. A damn mutt, and my capable crew has failed to capture the ship wrecker and bring it to justice." Reaver spat out each word with venom, and Jib actually held up his hands in defense.

"You mean a dog has been causing all this ruckus?"

At the mention of the word dog, a bark echoes through the hallway, and Reaver swirls around at insane speeds, pointing his index finger forward in a dramatic manner towards the brown dog. "_YOU_." The dog seems unaffected by Reaver's behavior, and only wags it's tail. It's tongue flops out of it's mouth, and this supposed ship wrecker seems completely at peace.

Jib blinks. "Err. Captain. I think your going overboard."

Reaver gave Jib the coldest stare the Captain could muster. "It has _DESTROYED_ my ship. In case you haven't noticed, this place is in shambles, and don't get me started on the cellar. _JUST. DON'T._" With that finally statement, the Pirate Captain promptly ran after the dog, and then threw himself forward to tackle the goofy mutt. Jib actually had to watch in amazement, since when did Reaver ever do any hard work?

The dog dodges Reaver's grasp easily and trots forward towards the old bandit. Jib only gets down on one knee, ignoring the string of curses coming from Reaver at the other end of the hall. "Hey boy." He patted it's head, and the dog only licked his open hand. "See Reaver? Perfectly harmless!"

Reaver only hisses and stands to his knees, rubbing his sore nose. Jib chuckles. "Where's the rest of the crew anyways? I thought they were helping on this wild goose chase."

The Captain scowls and stands to his feet, probably trying to muster whatever pride he had left. "They are mopping the cellar and cleaning up all of the other damages done to the ship." He glares daggers at the dog, and Jib can see the Captain's hands twitch towards his holster.

"I'm going to kill that mutt Jib."

"Now Captain. Haven't we discussed about that temper of yours?" It really was remarkable how calm and confident Jib was around the Captain, but after so many years, Jib knew his boundaries, and he knew he was pushing them ever so slightly. He hadn't seen Reaver this angry in awhile.

Reaver only snarls, and takes a threatening step forward. Jib shakes his head, but even he can feel his heart jump slightly. The doctor repeats several times that Reaver is too rational to kill him. "Look at his face Reaver, he just thought it was a game. It's the crew's fault for chasing him. If they left this guy alone, he wouldn't have damaged a thing."

"I can punish the crew later." Reaver hisses. Jib looks back at the dog, who seems perfectly content with just sitting by Jib's side.

The dog barks once, and Jib watches confused as it leaves his side and walks over to the child on the bed. Reaver pauses as well, and then joins Jib's side.

The dog nuzzles the girl's hands, and ever so slowly, Sparrow smiles. Her hand seeming to gain enough strength to ruffle the mutt's fur. The dog nuzzles against her touch and licks her hand, whining like a puppy, it's tail wagging back and forth.

Jib only chuckles.

Reaver on the other hand, seems just as confused as previously.

"Oh come on Reaver, surely you had a dog once? It's obvious that this mutt belongs to the girl."

The Captain frowns, but it is not one of this irritated frowns, it was one of his confused ones. "So the dog belongs to the girl…?"

Jib only nods. "Must be pretty loyal to go through that whole situation just to find it's owner.

Reaver pinches the bridge of his nose, and then sighs.

"So…You still want to kill it Captain?"

The next thing that happened made Jib do a double take.

"Let it live." Reaver turned on his heel and left the room.

The aged doctor chased after the Captain, pausing at the doorframe. "Reaver, you sure?" The Captain had been close to insane with anger a few moments ago, and now, the Captain seemed more deflated then angry. Reaver only sighed, and glanced over his shoulder.

"If the dog belongs to her, then we can lie and say we found him for her or something. Make her more…I don't know, more trusting or some rubbish."

"Now if you excuse me Jib, I'm going to try and replace one hundred years of wine." After a few moments of confusion, Jib closed the door, and sat down in his chair. When did Reaver get such radical mood swings? When that man was angry, he stayed angry, and it was extremely difficult to talk him down from anything.

So, who the hell killed the last Reaver and replaced him with a new one? Jib only chuckles at that though. All well, whatever was going through the Captain's mind, he'd leave the Captain to sort out. Reaver was a big boy, he could handle himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Man. This chapter took longer then usual. Sorry guys. _

Enjoy the story! Thank you to everyone who reviewed/faved/alerted my story from chapter 3. Makes me feel loved =D

Rate and Review once your finished so I can get your opinions.

* * *

As the days rolled by, the air seemed to grow tense with anticipation. It had been a week since she had been brought to him, and he had done his best in saving her life.

Jib drank his glass of water, leaning forward in his chair. The girl's faithful companion was lying right next to her. He had remained like this for hours, just waiting. That's all he did these days. The Captain's visits seemed to grow far more frequent, and it was rare to have a moment of silence within the small quarters.

The door opened behind the seasoned sailor, and Jib turned his head away from his patient. It was Reaver again. Well, so much for a moment of silence huh? The Captain walked in slowly, and for once, doesn't speak or complain. The Captain grabs a chair and sits himself down. The dog briefly looks up from the ground, and Reaver ever so slowly pats him on the head, almost as if Reaver was trying to restrain himself from hurting the dog. Jib shakes his head and leans back in his chair. "What are you doing up so late Captain?"

It was late out. In a few hours, the sun would rise and the day would begin as always. Reaver usually was fast asleep by now. "I have far too much on my mind to sleep." The Captain replies simply, and removes a brown bottle from his side.

"Is that ale? I thought you had better taste then that Sir."

Reaver cringes as he takes a drink. "A certain…animal has forced me to take drastic measures." The dog perks up, and only wags his tail happily. Almost as if he is proud of the damage he has caused.

Reaver scowls and sends the dog a glare. Jib only shakes his head. "I'm surprised you restrained yourself a couple days ago."

"As if I would lower myself by killing a mere mutt."

Reaver glares at the wall across from him, and grimaces as he takes another drink from the disgusting beverage. After swallowing, he glances over to the child and sighs, leaning back in the chair. "It's been several days, and she hasn't awakened once?"

"She has several times; just long enough for me to give her some water or food, but she drifts back to sleep before I can get to you."

Reaver scowls. "You should have made her stay awake."

"I don't want to make her stay up Reaver, you saw her bleeding head. She needed the rest."

"Tch. That's all I keep hearing. My men have sustained head injuries before. They have never received special treatment."

Once again, Jib only rolls his eyes. The medic chooses not to argue with his captain. Nor does he choose to correct him by telling him the difference between an adult and a child. Reaver was a stubborn and impatient, noting Jib would say could possibly change that.

"She will wake when she's ready."

Reaver sighs dramatically, and slumps into the chair, obviously bored. "Bowerstone is so annoying. How can these people live without proper entertainment?"

"Still haven't found some hole in the wall have you?"

"No luck what so ever. Although I have found a rather pleasant pub. Good quality, but rather clean and orderly for my tastes."

"Cow and Corset?"

"Heavens no. The name escapes me, but it most certainly isn't that place, as if I'd enjoy drinking with a bunch of lowly merchants. This place is classy. Near Fairfax Gardens if I am correct." Reaver sets a finger to his lips in thought. "Not much rowdy activities there…but we could change that." The Captain arches a brow towards the doctor.

"We?" Jib chuckles. "I'm too old Captain. Married as well, just in case you forgot."

"Come now Jib. You've been huddled up in these quarters for months. I am being generous enough to offer you a break, don't turn me down Jib. I'd be so sad if you did."

With a sigh, Jib stands from his chair. "I'll probably regret this, but fine. I have nothing left to lose anyway."

"That's the spirit Jib!" Reaver stood up from his chair as well, enthusiastic to have a drinking partner, and a possible human shield, of course Jib didn't need to know the last part to that.

The door shuts behind the strange pair, neither of them notices the dog walking to its Master's side, and none of them noticed the way she stirred as her eyes slowly opened.

* * *

As Sparrow slowly became aware of her surroundings, one thing stood out the most. It was the aching pains that rippled across her chest. The six year old closed her eyes tightly, suddenly regretting waking up. It felt like someone had shoved a knife right between her ribs. Almost nauseous from the pain, she barely manages to roll onto her side. For a moment, she is tempted to curl into a ball, but when she tries to, her chest sparks with an intense pain that makes her eyes water.

She takes a series of shallow breaths, her head now spinning. She blacks out for several moments, but the soreness wakes her up again. Sparrow whimpers and shuts her eyes tightly. Her head felt light and she couldn't think straight. Were was she? Had she died?

The child lays there for what seems like hours, scared and alone. The silence closes in on her, and it fuels her fear to a level that leaves her trembling. Not even the dog, who she constantly pets, can comfort her. She remembers Lucien, and her sister's death with crystal clarity. Had someone brought her here? Or had Lucien locked her in here so he could kill her later?

She trembles again, and the dog whimpers. With no hesitation, the brown mutt jumps onto the bed, right next to her. Wordlessly, Sparrow edges slowly towards the dog and hugs it's neck with as much energy she can dig up. Finally, she speaks in a rasped voice, struggling to avoid the pain it brings. "Suppose I should give you a name…huh?" She coughs suddenly, and is almost brought to tears once again.

Biting her lip, she pushes the pain away. "Oak. I'll call you Oak. Cause your fur is the color of an Oak tree. Rose said that Ma and Dad would have named me Oak, but they liked Sparrow better." The young child closes her eyes, suddenly overcome with loneliness. She had no family anymore.

The dog only licks at her check, whimpering. Sparrow nuzzles her forehead into the Oak's warm fur, and cries silently. All alone. Rose had always promised to stay with her, but she was gone now. So were her parents. Who did she have left?

More importantly, how much time did she have left? That thought sends cold terror through her body. What if Lucien knew she wasn't dead? What if he had sent some guards to find her, and she was trapped in some cell inside the castle.

She whimpers yet again, her heart ramming against her chest. What could she do? She had to get out of here, out of this cramp room and as far away as possible. She struggles to lift herself up into a sitting position, flinching at the pain, but she had no time to complain. Adrenalin mixed with the powerful blood that flowed through her veins.

Slowly, and carefully, she swings her legs off the bed, and stands to her feet. Unfortunately, after such a long time sleeping, she is not accustomed to her body weight. Sparrow almost collapses to the ground, but manages to stop her fall by grasping the corner of the desk in front of her. She didn't move for several moments. She attempted to adapt to standing again, and finally, when she believed she could move properly, she let go and took a step forward.

In all honesty, she felt sick, and her head felt light, but she didn't complain as she moved to the door. Oak trailing behind her like the faithful companion he was. Her shaking hands grasped the knob, and she almost laughed in relief to discover that the door was unlocked. With little hesitation, she pushed the door open, and is met with the dark hallways of Reaver's ship. Confused, she takes a small step forward. This doesn't look like a place in a castle, she thinks silently to herself. Sparrow shakes the thought away. It didn't matter. She needed to leave, now.

She lets her hand brush the shape of her pistol on her side. It hadn't been removed from her like her wooden sword had been. Not like it matters, the stupid toy could only kill stupid beetles. It couldn't hurt anyone. Still, having something is better then nothing.

As she moves through the dark hallways, she pauses briefly for a moment. The hall spliced into another two hallways. Confused, Sparrow stops in her tracks. Which way to take? She thinks silently. Oak trails ahead of her, and before Sparrow can stop her dog, he takes the hallway to the right. She gulps for a moment, but doesn't ask questions. He had found her here after all, he must know this place better then her. That, or maybe he had been captured with her, and he had been kept in that room with her. She shakes her head, forgetting such thoughts.

As she follows the dog, she can't help but take in her surroundings. It was dark, but even she could tell that almost everything was made of some fancy wood that smelled like oil or tar. Besides that, she paused briefly every time she passed a door. Being too young to read, she couldn't the letters engraved on each, but they were probably used to store something. She blinks and pauses for a moment, of course, her dog nudges her gently, and she decides to keep moving. This feels strangely right; she thinks; to have a dog by her side like this. It felt good, like she had an extra set of eyes.

She muses over that thought silently. Her blue eyes look ahead, and she can feel a slow smile replacing her frown. Oak was probably going to become something very close to her, she could feel it.

Shame her smile didn't last long.

At the end of the hallway, Sparrow freezes in her tracks, her breath hitching in her throat.

Bandits. Lots of them.

Oh Avo no.

She holds a hand over her mouth and backs away quickly to escape any candle light that lit up the bunker of cots and sleeping criminals. Her eyes are wide, and it feels like her heart would explode from her chest. Why bandits? Of all things?

They were probably going to sell her off as a slave. Rose had told her stories of men who captured children at their weakest and sold them to the highest bidder. Now, Sparrow suddenly felt like she was in those kid's shoes. Suddenly, she didn't mind Lucien. Death was always better then Slavery. Well, that's what Rose used to say anyways. Sparrow bites her lip. She needed her sister more then ever it seemed.

Oak, strangely enough, does not seem fazed by the hoard of men, he only nudges his owner again, and even goes so far to bite her shirt to lead her forward. She stumbles forward, frightened. She took a deep breath, and felt her shoulders shake. Maybe she could sneak past them? They were all asleep after all.

Hesitantly, she crouches forward. Immediately, her chest complains, but she ignores it. Taking small baby steps, she walks forward. She holds her breath as she carefully moves past the men, careful not to trip over anything. Her dog follows her, just as quite. She closes her eyes tightly as she takes a long step past another cot.

She can't remember a time were her heart had beat so fast. It felt like a hummingbird was in her ribcage. Today was just not her day. Hell, this wasn't her year. She grimaces.

"Oy. You hear about that lad we picked up from Bloodstone awhile ago?"

Something opens, a door maybe. Sparrow freezes. It came from up ahead, past the bunker and into another hallway. She can hear the creaking of stairs, and can see the orange glow of a candle ahead.

"Yeah. Shame he was killed so soon. Only a week on Reaver's ship. Poor bastard."

"I'm not looking forward to breaking the news to his wife."

"Eh. She should be expecting it. Every wife should. We are on Reaver's ship after all."

Sparrows hardly pays attention to their conversation. The second they round the corner, she is engulfed with the flame's glow, she is frozen in fear.

"The bloody hell?" The yell echoes through he whole ship, coming from one of the bandits when they lay eyes on the child.

Sparrow did the only thing that made sense at that point.

She ran, past the cots and the shuffling of feet or groans as the others awaken. She ignores the pain in her chest, or how her body complains. The only thought filtering through her head was the will to escape.

She prays, that maybe, just maybe, Rose's spirit will lend her a hand from were ever her sister is.


	5. Chapter 5

I'm so sorry this took so long to write. D; School work sucks. On another note, I hate this chapter for some weird reason. Normally I would have scraped it and written another one, but I don't have enough time. I've kept you guys waiting long enough.

Thank you to everyone who faved, reviewed, or alerted this story. I got a ton of feedback from last chapter, and it makes me feel loved.

* * *

Reaver's ship was quite expansive. So large in fact, it seemed more like a mobile fortress rather than a ship. So, as the crew gathered their wits and trailed through the black hallways with candlesticks, they couldn't help but curse their Captain. An intruder was aboard the ship, and from experience, they knew that one intruder usually meant many.

Of course, they couldn't help but wonder why the intruder would be a _child _of all things. It wasn't a bad idea really, kids tended to be small and fast, but it seemed rather bizarre. Why would intruders bother with a kid? Were they that unsure of their own abilities that they sent the children of beggars to do their work? Either way, the men had a job to do. It was just a shame that there were so many hallways and passages that trailed under the ship. Not even the whole crew could be able to search the whole ship at once. So they had done the next best thing. The sealed the door to the upper deck. The kid wouldn't be able to escape.

Still, Sparrow was a tiny thing, and finding a hiding spot hadn't been difficult. Besides, the sound of them hammering the door shut was distracting and very loud. It had given her time to cram herself behind a crate. She shifted uncomfortably at the awkward position that strained against the bandages wrapped around her chest. She panted several times, trying to regain some of her energy from running away. Her heartbeat rapidly against her chest, leaving her light headed and breathless. Oak was by her side, snuggled next to her comfortably. Briefly, she patted his head.

Every so often, she would perk up from behind the box, but would quickly drop down if someone was coming her way. There was a ton of bandits, and she knew that she was pretty much stuck were she was at the moment. The girl gulped at that thought. She hadn't been this scared since…well, since Lucien. From one traumatic situation to another, she thought silently, what a horrible transition.

Several times, they would try to coax her out of hiding. Sparrow rolled her eyes at every attempt. She was young, but she wasn't stupid. The child highly doubted every word that came out of their mouths. They were bandits after all.

Her head ducked down once more, candlelight slowly alit the dark corridor. Oak does not stir, and Sparrow closes her mouth shut quickly. She holds her breath, and tries to not make a single sound as yet another pirate passes by. He doesn't check the boxes in the corner that she hid behind, for which Sparrow is extremely relieved at. Shuffling her feet, the girl wonders if it would be smart to switch hiding spots. It wouldn't be too hard, right? Besides, if she stayed here, her chances of being caught would double. Silently, she tries to ignore the part of her mind that reminds her that she is stuck here. She gulps and slowly steps out from behind the crate.

Glancing around slowly, she begins to prowl around. Careful to not make any noise, she moves through several passages, Oak at her side. After several minutes of walking, she returned to the room she had been only moments ago before being spotted. As expected, as she went towards a door, she finds it nailed shut with several wooden boards.

She frowns, and tugs at the boards for several moments, hoping to pry them off. Of course, she fails. Her arms are far too frail and weak to perform such an action. She sighs, and sets her forehead against the door. She was scared. Hiding wouldn't help her at all in this situation. She was stuck down here, and she'd be caught eventually. Her heart dropped, and she almost considers giving up, but decides against it after some hesitation. As easily as it sounded to just give up, she didn't have the heart to do it. She was a stubborn thing when she wanted to be, and she'd be damned if she just _gave up_.

"_FOUND HER_!"

Oh, bloody hell.

* * *

"So lads. Care to explain how this all happened?"

"He started it."

"This frilly pansy called my mother a whore!"

"…I'm not involved in any of this. Can I go home now?"

Jacob was just another normal guard. He had a normal income, a normal wife, and normal children.

Mind you, this situation was far from normal.

He had been making his rounds around Bowerstone, and the next thing he knows, a man crashes through a window from a nearby tavern. Within seconds, a huge fight started in the streets. So far, he had managed to chase off most of the drunks, and narrowed it down to three suspects for causing the ruckus.

He coughs into his fist. "I'm sorry…Jib was it? I'm going to need you to stay."

An intoxicated Reaver only crosses his arms over his chest, still managing to admit an arrogant air around him despite his ruffled appearance. "In my defense, his mother is a whore. I know her from Bloodstone. We have…engaged in business several times. I remember her mentioning her son, so I try to strike up pleasant conversation, and the next thing I know, I have this brute trying to _kill me_."

Jacob considered himself rather fast for a guard, but not even he could halt the other man from punching the Captain right in the nose.

This was going to be a _long_ night.

* * *

"You son of a-"

Sparrow bit down harder on the bandit's hand, the taste of blood flooding into her mouth. The child twisted her head, trying to pry herself from the man's tight grip. Her feet kicked at his gut rapidly, too short to reach the ground below her. Of course, she wasn't ready to be dropped suddenly. Sparrow fell to the ground with a sharp thud. Her body flared in pain, but she spent no time whining. The next moment, she was on her feet and running again.

How many of these guys were there? She felt exhausted. If you spent your time outrunning bandits for who knows how long, you'd probably feel the same. The child was getting tired of running, and was getting tired of constantly avoiding their grasp. Right now, she wished she had a wooden sword to hit them with. That might keep them away.

Of course, she didn't. So that left her to run around this ship aimlessly. Skidding around a sharp corner, the child yanked opens the nearest door and forced herself into the dark cramp space. Oak right at her heels.

Leaning against the nearest wall, Sparrow sunk to her knees. She huffed, trying to regain her breath. Her chest throbbed slowly, but the pain was only annoying at this point. While it had been crippling only moments ago, it seemed as though adrenaline had helped her block out the pain.

"How long have we been running around for boy?"

She wasn't expecting Oak to talk back, but she was expecting a bark at least. Instead, Sparrow is met with silence. Concerned, she pushes herself away from the wall. "Oak?" The room remains silent.

"Oh come on, I closed the door behind you!" She fumbles around the room silently. "I'm with you for less than a day and you've already run off on me?"

Finally, something bumps into her leg. Something cold that could only be a nose. She glances down, trying to make out his shape in the dark. Or rather, what was in Oak's mouth. When she finally realizes what it is, a smile creeps onto her face.

"You and me are going to become best friends real fast if you keep at it boy."

After dropping the object into her fingers, all Sparrow receives in return is a bark.

* * *

"I told you that this would end badly."

"Could have been worse."

"…True. For once, you didn't kill anyone."

"I left my bullets in my Cabin."

"Reaver? Unarmed? What is the world coming too?"

"Something not very pleasant." Reaver rubbed at his sore nose, trying to regain his slightly bruised ego. Thankfully, immortality had managed to fix any bruises or cuts sustained through that little bar fight. Jib on the other hand walked ahead of the captain, not bothering to spare the man a glance. No one had touched the old man, and it made Reaver curse his luck under his breath. What happened to the good old days where the roles were reversed?

The streets of Bowerstone were as quite as usual, not one disturbance. As the two pirates approached the docks, nothing was amiss. Everything was going smoothly. No muggers or anything. It made Reaver almost yawn from boredom. At the moment though, he refrained. The fight at the pub had quenched his thirst for trouble at the moment. Jumping into the small raft boat, Reaver sat himself down on one of the seats and signaled for Jib to join him. The elder bandit sighed before sitting across. Wordlessly, Jib rowed the boat back from the docks without the Captains assistance.

They sail in silence, neither of them speaking to each other.

That was, of course until Reaver's ship comes into view.

Reaver pauses for a moment, and pulls out a small telescope from beneath his coat. Glancing through the lenses, he observes his ship, noting the absence of his men guarding it.

"Jib, did I order the men to not have a night watch?"

"No, you didn't Captain." Jib pauses his rowing, looking towards his Captain.

Reaver sets the scope back beneath his coat. "I should have brought my bullets."

"Sir?"

Reaver did not remove his gaze, and Jib suddenly understood why. Smoke was trailing up slowly from the ship. Normally, Jib would have mistaken it for the usual smoke that is emitted from the kitchens, but it wasn't. No, this smoke was a dark black, blending in with the night perfectly. Not like the thick gray to white-ish smoke the veteran is accustomed to seeing. Then, there was the issue as to where the smoke was coming from.

The smoke was exiting from where the staircase to the lower deck was.

Where most of the crew members probably were.

"Oh bloody hell. Reaver, what should we-"

A splash interrupts Jib's sentence, and the next thing he sees is Reaver swimming rapidly towards his ship, a determined look in his eyes.

"Damn it." He mutters.

This wasn't going to end well.

* * *

In reality, the idea of burning the door down wasn't that bad of a idea. When Oak had dropped a handful of candles at her feat, Sparrow had immediately gotten the idea into her head that burning down wood wouldn't be too hard. Right?

Shame that those 'candles' had turned out to be…well…for lack of a better term, explosive. She didn't know that those small gray candles were actually filled with gun power, and Reaver's men used them on other ships to cause fast damage. Thankfully, when she had set the sticks down by the door, Oak had actually been smart enough to drag his owner away before any real damage could have been done.

Still, as Sparrow laid flat against the cold wood ground, she cursed her luck bitterly. Smoke erupted from where the door had once been. The small explosion had rocked the ship, and had thrown Sparrow to the ground painfully. The child pushed herself up slowly. She was…disturbed to say the least. It wasn't every day candles exploded. Or whatever those things were. Oak scrambled from the ground next to her, whimpering and licking at the ash that covered one of her cheeks.

"You okay boy?"

He licked her again, whimpering still. Sparrow nuzzled the dog, and gave it a hug.

"You're a good boy. A very good boy. A smart boy too. Did you know they would do that?"

Had Oak been able to talk, the answer would have probably been no, Sparrow decided. Quickly, the girl rose to her feet, coughing as smoke came into her lungs. She could hear the yelling of the other men onboard. They were probably running over to see what had happened. Not wanting to be around when that would happen, Sparrow pushed herself forward, and proceeded to run up the charred stairs towards the exit.

Her little escape would have been perfect, has she not suddenly crashed into something large and wet. Falling back once again, Sparrow stared up at the man that loomed over her. She coughed, and felt her fear spike once again.

Captain Reaver only paused for a brief moment as he glanced down at the child he had saved, the smell of gun powder thick in the air. He is cold, he is tired, and his ship has experienced damage. Now, how a child could have managed to find his supply of gunpowder, he does not know, but he most certainly will find out. He thinks silently. A slow smirk spreads across his face, and his hand shoots forward, latching around Sparrow's sleeve.

Clearing his throat, he then decided to speak.

"Well well, look at what we have here."

* * *

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